One Day
by NettieC
Summary: Harm's day had already gone from bad to worse before a call from Bethesda completely changed his life.


Disclaimer: only playing with them...all mistakes are mine.

AN: I didn't realise it was so long since I posted on this site, mind you, I haven't been writing much at all to have anything to post.

-

With his hands firmly planted on his steering wheel, Harm pushed back in his seat and took a few deep breaths. They didn't have the calming effect he had anticipated and so he did it again. Taking a moment to scan the surrounds, Harm's heart started to pound somewhat erratically. No matter how many times he found himself in this locale, no matter what the purpose, he was always on edge in Bethesda Naval Hospital's car park. Looking up at the building itself, Harm felt his hands start to shake and gripped the wheel so tightly they turned white.

Nothing had gone right for him all day. He had slept in for the first time on a work day in a long time. Since he and Mac had begun sharing a bed some months ago there was always someone or something to make waking up early for a good thing. However, Mac was in Arkansas with a case and had been away too long for his liking. Technically, she had only been away 72 hours but it felt like 72 days.

Dressing at record speed, Harm was in the basement car park of his building before he realised his briefcase was still in the loft. The journey back up in the elevator seemed to take forever, so he resorted to taking the stairs on the way back down, cursing the additional delay and his CO's recent crackdown on punctuality.

Driving from the building, he shook his head. Not only was his day not living up to expectations, neither was the month of March. After a particularly nasty winter, snow was still on the ground and, in some parts of the country, still falling. The roads in DC were weather affected and the fact that ice patches were still present was re-iterated to him when he braked suddenly after almost missing the red traffic light. Without appropriate traction his car glided into the intersection, a semi missing him by the merest of margins.  
That jolt did more than any caffeine fix could have for his level of alertness and by the time he arrived at Headquarters he could have recited the license plate of most of the cars he had seen that morning.

Scampering up the stairs more than 45 minutes after the morning staff briefing he had been expected at, Harm threw his things into his office before making a beeline to the General's in the hope that presenting himself and pleading for mercy would mean leniency. This brought Harm's first good news of the day.

"General Cresswell has left for a meeting with the SecNav, sir," Jennifer Coates reported as she stood.  
"When did he leave, Petty Officer?" he asked, wondering if his CO even knew of his tardiness.  
"Seven minutes ago, sir," she replied. "And yes, he was aware of your absence this morning. And yes, he was aware you didn't call in. And yes, he said he will...and I quote 'take him to task when I get back'. He also added that if you weren't here when he came back that he would personally see that you are assigned to the furthest Naval base possible," she added, aware he hadn't asked for the extra information.  
"Thank you. Jen," he said. "I'll be in my office whenever he wants me."

Grabbing a bottle of water from the break room, Harm entered his office and sorted out his hastily deposited belongings. While waiting for his aging computer to load, he closed the door and adjusted the blinds not wanting any distractions at all. And this proved to be a wise move as after his first hour of voluntary incarceration he had completed two reports. By the end of the third hour, he had ticked off another few things from his must-do list but was aware that he hadn't eaten all day.

From personal experience, Harm knew meetings with the SecNav could last ten minutes or two days and therefore he couldn't judge Cresswell's return. Not wanting to risk venturing out and sourcing his own food, he buzzed Jen and asked her to do it on his behalf. Half an hour later, just as he was returning from a bathroom break, Jen was exiting his office.  
"Your lunch is on your desk. I ordered your usual but it doesn't look the same," she said as she passed him. "The guy said it was right but it looks more like turkey salad than eggplant."  
One glance confirmed Jen's observation and Harm just shrugged. "Well, it will have to do," he said his stomach announcing its impatience loudly.  
Putting aside his vegetarian ways for the sake of staving off starvation, Harm ate his lunch before continuing his paper warfare.

Awhile later, believing his day had improved, or rather not got any worse, Harm ventured out to get coffee only to see General Cresswell stalking past.  
"Rabb," he growled lowly. "Get the Henderson report and be in my office ASAP."  
With a quick about-face, Harm double-timed it back to his computer, hit print and things got a whole lot worse.  
"Sir, the General is waiting," Jen said, appearing at his door. "What's wrong?"  
"I hit print then the report disappeared," he said quickly.  
"You go see Cresswell, I'll see if I can find it," she said, moving around his desk.  
"It's the Henderson report- Cpl Alexander Henderson," Harm said already out the door.

His knuckles had barely grazed the solid door before an "Enter" resonated from behind it.  
Harm obeyed and was soon standing at attention in front of a clearly irate commanding officer.  
"Do you have a death wish, Rabb?" Cresswell barked before walking around his desk and standing in front of the man he had summoned.  
"No, sir," he replied, his eyes still fixed on the back wall.  
"You were UA for the staff briefing less than a week after I made it clear that tardiness would not be tolerated," he continued, his tone not softening. "Care to explain?"  
"No excuse, sir," he said, "Just overslept."  
"Overslept?" he scoffed. "Not good enough, Rabb, not good enough at all."  
"Sorry, sir," he replied, chancing a glance at him.  
"I'm starting to think you are a little too comfortable here," he continued. "Getting a little soft... And where's the Henderson report?" he asked, knowing the Commander didn't have it with him. "You did manage to find the time to get it done, didn't you?"  
"Yes, sir," Harm replied with a hint of disdain. "Just had an issue printing it. Coates was seeing to it as I came in here."

On cue, Jennifer knocked on the door and entered. "General, Commander," she said looking from one to the other. "My apologies for interrupting." Instantly Harm knew she hadn't rescued his file. Just what he needed; another sign of incompetence for Cresswell to add to the list.  
"What is it Petty Officer?" Cresswell asked, his eyes not moving to far from Harm's face.  
"I'm sorry, sir," she said, "I tried to print off the Henderson report for Commander Rabb and have inadvertently deleted the file. I'm sorry, General, Commander."  
General Cresswell looked between the two. "These things happen, Coates. Just don't make a habit of it."  
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

The door had barely shut when Cresswell resumed his chair. "You work for me, Rabb. I do not expect to be kept waiting ...understood?"  
"Yes, sir," he replied.  
"You have an hour to get that report done and be back in here. Not an hour five or an hour ten. One hour. Sixty minutes. Got it?"  
"Sir, yes, sir."  
"Dismissed!" he barked.

Jennifer wasn't at her desk when he departed but rather at his. "Sorry, Commander," she said, glancing up as he walked in. "I tried everything," she said. "Even got Commander Roberts and his techy-knowhow to try and nothing."  
"Thank you for trying, Jen," he said, shutting his door. "But why did you lie to Cresswell and tell him it was you who deleted the file?"  
"You were already in the bad books," she said, standing up. "Thought this might push Cresswell over the top and you'd end up in Siberia."  
Harm smiled. "Thank you," he said again. "Now for some speed typing and a tight deadline."  
"Anything I can do?" she offered, opening the door.  
"Coffee," he said. "Oh, and I need to be back in that office at 1437 exactly. You want to buzz me about 1430...can't afford to be late."  
"Yes, sir."

By the time Jen buzzed him he was just about finished. The report was not his finest work; there were a range of edits he needed to make but at least he could present something to Cresswell. Taking a few seconds to ensure he had saved it properly, he hit print and breathed a sigh of relief when his printer sprung to life.

It was 1434 when he stood by Jen's desk once more.  
"Well, at least you weren't late," were Cresswell's first words as he perused the report. "There are a few errors in here," he said, placing the paper on his desk and tapping it.  
"Yes, sir," he said. "I didn't get a chance to edit it."  
"Maybe you would have had time if you were here when you should have been," he answered before sighing. "Look, Rabb, it won't come as a surprise to you that the SecNav wants a shakeup of staff. He feels transfers keep people on their toes and that some officers have been here far too long."  
"Officers or me in particular, sir?" he questioned.  
"You, primarily," Cresswell responded. "But he is pissed at the whole office at the moment."  
"Why?" Harm questioned, not aware of doing anything specific to annoy the SecNav.  
"Because of this," Cresswell tapped the file once more. "You got a conviction and a two year sentence ... and Alexander Henderson is his godson." Harm blew out a deep breath. Now both the SecNav and Cresswell wanted him gone he held little hope of remaining in Falls Creek long term. "Perhaps it's time to review your career options."  
This day was just one bad thing after another. What else could go wrong?

The problem with a bad day is that you can't escape. If he wasn't in the bad books he might have considered taking an early mark and going home to regroup. As it was, he didn't see himself leaving the office anytime soon. Before anything else was said, the phone buzzed and it was Coates. He took a call and Harm noted his demeanour change. He tried to indicate he'd wait outside but Cresswell waved the gesture away.  
"That was Commander Elliott Buckley, at Bethesda. It appears Colonel MacKenzie became unwell on the flight home and was transported there by ambulance from the airport. You're her next-of-kin, he wants you there." Harm was out the door before the General had dismissed him.  
Now, sitting in his car he realised he had to go in. He tried not to think in the negative but he couldn't help it. Things had gotten progressively worse all day...this was bound to be catastrophic.

It didn't take him long to be in the Emergency Room and being directed to her cubicle. Steeling himself before he opened the curtain, Harm took a couple of deep breaths and slowly pulled back the fabric. There he found the love of his life, lying on her side, her back to him, breaking her heart crying.  
"Mac, sweetheart," he said, pulling the curtain closed behind him. "What happened?"  
Instantly, she spun around and threw her arms out to him. "Hey, hey," he tried to soothe as she clung to him. "It's okay, it's okay."  
"Ah, you must be Commander Rabb," said the white jacketed doctor coming in behind him. "Elliott Buckley...glad you made it."  
"What's going on?" Harm asked as Mac pulled back slightly.  
"Colonel?" he asked, wanting to give her the chance to speak. She just cried. "Colonel MacKenzie wasn't feeling the best over the past few days. She appears to have fainted during the plane's descent into DC but refused medical help. She then fainted again in the terminal, hitting her head in the process." Harm caressed the spot on the left side of her head with a small bandage.  
"What caused it...the fainting?" he asked, looking earnestly at the doctor.  
"Pregnancy," he announced and Harm paled.  
"No, that's not possible," he said, looking from the doctor to Mac. They had seen specialists and researched enough to know that a spontaneous pregnancy was never going to happen for them.  
"Well, how else do you explain this?" Commander Buckley asked, moving an ultrasound monitor towards Harm and taking the wand. With a splash of gel, he ran the wand across Mac's abdomen before settling it on the same spot as he had 45 minutes previously.  
"What is it?" asked Harm, squinting to try and understand the image.  
"That," he said, tapping the screen, "Is your son or daughter. This little thing...is its heart beating strongly." Looking from the screen to the father-to-be, the doctor laughed. "Looks like crying runs in the family. I'll give you both a few minutes."  
"Pregnant," Harm said, his watery blue eyes locked on watery brown ones.  
"Pregnant," Mac echoed with a sniffle.  
"A baby," Harm said, holding her tighter.  
"A baby," Mac echoed before sighing. "This is good...it's good news...isn't it?"  
"It is..it is...it's the best news," Harm said before kissing her. "It is the absolute best news."

And just like that, Harm's bad day had become the best day of his life.


End file.
